


deserving of that

by green3t3r



Series: the deserving series [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Childe & Sire Interactions, Childe/Sire Bond(s), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, M/M, Other, Protectiveness, Vampire Family, angel goes all mother hen on spike which is cute, giles will be shouted at soon., i love these two so much, the boys are back together!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green3t3r/pseuds/green3t3r
Summary: sequel to part one, 'deserving of this'“I don’t have anything left, Will.” Angel’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. It was coated in misery, such a sad sound.Spike swallowed. “You have me, Sire.”Angel looked up in shock before shaking his head in disbelief. “I lost you when I left you, William.” He sounded mournful.“You’ll always have me, Sire.”
Relationships: Angel & Cordelia Chase, Angel (BtVS)/Penn (AtS), Angel/Drusilla/Spike (BtVS), Angel/Spike (BtVS), Cordelia Chase & Wesley Wyndam-Pryce
Series: the deserving series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929337
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	deserving of that

**Author's Note:**

> hi humans  
> it's been so long since i did the first part of this series... but i suddenly feel inspired to contribute to the fandom once more.  
> enjoy this piece! or not? i guess? up 2 u  
> if there are any glaringly obvious mistakes u notice pls do let me know!  
> sidenote, in the last part i realise i spelt sire and childe without capital letters, oops. fixed that here!

Cordelia was gathering her things, sliding them neatly and slowly into her handbag. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was stalling. Buffy hadn’t called her back to say if she had passed the message onto Spike or not, so Cordelia had no way of knowing if the vampire was 5 minutes away or hadn’t even started his journey. She and Wesley had been hovering around long after the time they were usually expected to leave, anxious to leave their boss on his own for Spike to find.

_“Are you sure we actually want to be here when Spike arrives, Cordelia?” Wesley had asked, shifting his glasses on his face._

_Cordelia shrugged. “Would you rather leave him on his own?” She replied, gesturing her head downwards._

_They silently agreed to stay._

Wesley had made it out that he was reading a book in the corner, but he hadn’t flipped the page he started on in over an hour. And his foot was bouncing impatiently. Cordelia had taken to tapping pencils on files, her fingers drumming on her desk. She had carried on with this until Wesley had snapped at her to give it a rest. Then they had settled into an uncomfortable silence until they both somehow silently agreed it was time to leave.

She had just stood up when the front door swung open. Spike had never been for subtleties. If the person slamming open their door was even the demon she thought.

“What’s all this bloody rubbish about a ‘ _vampire thing’_ then?” A booming British voice sounded around the corner, followed by the appearance of Spike. He looked exactly like he did the last time Cordelia saw him. Bleached, gelled hair. Great billowing leather duster. Chunky doc martens. Maybe he was a little bit thinner though.

As Cordelia and Wesley were yet to say anything, he raised an eyebrow and gestured around wildly, a smoking cigarette between his fingers. “Well?” He said.

Huh. Somehow in the hours Cordelia had before Spike had actually arrived, she hadn’t even begun to think how she would explain the situation. Should she go for tact? If Angel had sired Penn as well as the vampire before her, did that make Spike and Penn brothers or something? Vampires were weird. Maybe Spike didn’t even care about Penn. How would Cordelia know?

Then again, Cordelia had never been one for tact. She said what was on her mind, the first thing she thought of. The problem was, she was drawing a blank on this one. Should she let Angel explain what happened? If he bothered to speak to Spike, at all anyway. This whole thing was a shot in the dark. Before she could open her mouth to try and explain anything at all, Wesley slammed his book shut and leapt up.

“I should warn you, vampire! Don’t try anything! Cordelia and I are experienced demon hunters, you know. We’ve taken on far worse than you!” Wesley shouted. Way to go Wesley, Cordelia thought. Straight in with the threat of violence, that’ll work.

Spike scrunched up his face. “I think you’ll find you’re the ones who invited me here. I want to know why, and I want to know soddin’ now. Angel finally decided to get me out the way, yeah? Where is the great poof, anyway?” Spike asked. The vampire wandered about, sticking his head round doors and walls. “Oi! Peaches! Wherever you are, come out and face me like a man! Or, a demon, I guess.” He called out into the dark.

“He’s not up here, Bleach boy. He’s below us.” Cordelia said. When Spike made a move for the elevator, Cordelia grabbed his arm before she could think and yanked him back. He turned around and snarled, eyes flashing yellow in the night.

“Ah! Hands off. Your boss trying to get humans to fight his battles now, is he? Huh?” Spike taunted, shrugging Cordelia’s hand off with ease.

Cordelia closed her eyes and sighed. “No, Spike. Just-“ She chewed her lip. “Just be careful with him, okay? And don’t try and kill him, either, mister.”

Spike looked to be very confused. Cordelia didn’t really blame him. “ _What?_ Alright, something’s going on here. Peaches!” He shouted, getting into the elevator and pressing the button.

“Aren’t you going to stop him?” Wesley asked from behind her.

“Are you?” She replied, not turning to face her. She received no reply.

_The apartment_

Spike burst into the living space, sniffing the air. Angel was here. Somewhere. But there was something off about the scent, it was still Angel’s… but it was different. Tainted. Spike checked the kitchen, which was absent of the vampire he was searching for. Looked in all the rooms, except one. That must be Angel’s bedroom. If Angel wanted to fight, why would he be in there? Spike once again felt unsettled and confused by this entire ordeal. He hadn’t seen Angel since he came to LA looking for the gem of Amara, and God knows that had gone well. Not. He’d tortured him half to death, stuck hot pokers in him, and threatened his pet humans he kept around. He doubted Angel would have forgave him after that.

But this meeting didn’t scream conflict, or revenge. It felt like something else.

Opening the door to the bedroom, he slowly stuck his head around it. Best to be cautious, in any case.

The room was dark, no lights were on. The air was heavy with the scent of misery, so strong it made Spike’s head hurt.

_Bloody hell. What happened here?_

Spike’s attention drifted to the bed. It was empty. But the sheets were rumpled, and looked slept in.

“Peaches?” Spike’s voice seemed very loud in the quiet room. The only form of reply spike received was a thudding sound, as if someone had hit their arm or head against a wall. Spike turned his head, and there was the source of the stench of sadness in the room.

Angel, curled up with his head buried in his arms, which were clutching his knees to his torso. He was pressed tightly against the corner. He made no noise. No sound to acknowledge Spike’s presence. Spike had never seen Angel look so small before.

“Angel? What are you doing down there?” Spike’s voice gave away nothing. It carried no apparent emotion. Yet again, there was no reply from the vampire in the corner. He stayed completely still. Alright. Spike wasn’t necessarily worried. He wasn’t. Why would Spike care? It’s not like he cared all that much about Angel. But it was… mildly concerning. Yeah. That’s all. Spike just thought this behaviour was mildly concerning. But why the hell was he here? This wasn’t any ‘ _vampire thing_ ’ he could think of. Unless the humans upstairs actually intended for him to help Angel. Because if they did, they were absolutely off their nut.

Off their nut, they were.

Spike crouched down next to Angel. He spoke softly, quietly. “Peaches. What’s wrong?”

Angel whined. It was animalistic, like when you accidently step on a dog, or find ones that have been abused by their owners. It was a horrible sound. Even worse coming from Angel. It hurt Spike.

He leaned closer, and slowly reached his hand out towards Angel, who quickly flinched away, somehow pressing himself even closer to the wall. Spike quickly dropped his hand back. How the hell was he supposed to help? Angel was acting like a wild animal.

Spike supposed he would have to act like one, too.

Baring his neck, and keeping his head lowered, Spike shifted so he was parallel to Angel. With his back against the wall, he gradually shifted across, stopping for a minute whenever Angel flinched back from him. When he was pressed against Angel’s side, Spike very carefully moved his head, until he was nuzzling against Angel’s neck.

Spike began to purr softly. It was a steady, rumbling noise, and the vibrations carried across to Angel’s body. Angel’s instincts took over, and he began nuzzling his face in Spike’s hair, the smell of family calming him in his distress. Time passed like this. Maybe thirty minutes. Maybe an hour? Spike didn’t register his surroundings. All he could smell was Angel, all he could hear were the soft whimpers he made into Spike’s hair. What had happened to Angel to make him act this way?

Eventually, Spike pulled back. “Angel? What happened?” he asked, quietly.

Angel kept his head lowered, but uncurled his arms from his chest. He slowly opened his previously clenched hands, and raised them towards Spike. Like he was offering him something. Like he was begging. Dust, Vampire dust, was encrusted onto Angel’s hands.

Spike stiffened. “Angel. Who’s dust is that?” He asked, his voice cutting into the silence.

Angel jammed his eyes shut, and began violently shaking his head from side to side. Shit. Spike gently placed his hands on either side of Angel’s face, quelling his struggles. “Angel, Angel, Peaches- calm down love, okay? Just tell me their name.” Spike asked. Angel looked like he was struggling.

Who could Angel have possibly staked to get him in a state this bad? Peaches had made a job out of killin’ demons, so it had to be someone of importance. As far as Spike knew, Angel didn’t really make a habit of befriending vampires and the like. Family then? He knew Angel had staked Darla years ago, so it wasn’t her. And it wasn’t Drusilla, she was off in Europe somewhere. Spike knew that. So maybe it was Penn?

Spike himself hadn’t really seen much of Penn in the good old days, but they had been family. And when Penn visited, it certainly wasn’t _un_ pleasant. Occasionally he took Spike with him on hunts when he visited, and they used to play on the gravestones together. Spike hadn’t seen him in ages, but he would miss him.

“Peaches. It was Penn, wasn’t it?” Spike asked.

Angel flinched at the name. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t kill him, I _didn’t_. Please. I wouldn’t. he was my _Childe._ ” Angel’s voice was rough and hoarse from disuse.

Spike growled. “And some Sire you were, hey? Abandoning all your Childer as soon as you got your shiny bloody soul. Bet you thought you were too good for them!” Angel recoiled away from the harsh tone of Spike’s voice. But Spike carried on.

“But you left us! Left Dru to moan and cry about the bloody stars and her daddy and how he was never coming back! Probably left Penn to think you abandoned him in soddin’ Italy!” Spike’s voice was breaking.

“And you left _me!_ You left me and I thought you hated me! I thought you couldn’t stand the sight of me! You didn’t even say-“ Spike cut himself off and looked away, biting his lip. “You didn’t even say _goodbye_.” Spike could feel his eyes welling up. No. He wasn’t crying. He was angry. He was meant to hate the vampire in front of him for leaving all those years ago. But all he was was sad.

Angel had stayed silent throughout Spike’s tirade, but was staring at his hands in abject horror. His eyes were wide, and had a certain sheen to them. Fuck. Spike needed to calm down, and not let his anger get the better of himself. It wouldn’t help anyone in this situation.

“Sorry, Angel. Shouldn’t have shouted. Here, just give me your hands and-” Spike had made a move for Angel’s hands, but Angel quickly moved them away and held them close to himself.

“Peaches. Give me your hands. We need to take the dust off, okay?” Spike prompted.

Angel violently shook his head. “I can’t. They’re all I have left of him, Will.”

Spike flinched. Angel hadn’t called him that in- well. Let’s just say that it had been a very, _very_ long time. “We’ll keep them. We won’t throw them away. But let me take them off, Angel.”

When Angel was yet to lower his hands, Spike slowly took them in his own. Angel did not object to this, and when Spike lifted him up, he did not struggle. Spike, supporting part of Angel’s weight, got them both to the bathroom. Angel perched on the Toilet seat while Spike shuffled around the cupboards, looking for a brush. He found a small red one, and he picked up the glass on the edge of the sink as well.

He crouched down by angel, carefully taking his hands. He brushed the dust methodically into the glass. Neither vampires spoke. When Spike was finished, he stood back up and sighed.

“Right. Now Peaches. You are going to have a shower, can you do that for me? Yeah?” Spike asked. His voice was calm. Angel nodded. But when Spike made a move towards the door, _he_ made a move to grab his arm. Spike turned around.

“I’ll be waiting back through there for you. I’m not going anywhere, Angel.”

_Kitchen_

Spike was hungry. Really hungry. What with the chip and all, he obviously couldn’t hunt for his own food. Not that the ‘Scoobies’ would let him. It was like they were keeping him as a pet, recently. And sure, they fed him. Just not enough. Far from enough. And you’d think, with the watcher having studied vampires for a decent portion of his life he’d now how much blood they needed a day. Maybe he was purposefully starving him? Keeping him weak? Or maybe the watcher just hated him. Yeah, that was probably it.

Well he could suck Spike’s di-

A loud grumble from Spike’s stomach refocused him on his task. Opening Angel’s fridge, he got out a couple of bags for himself, before hesitating of what to do about Angel. He had smelled the hunger on him, so he would definitely need something to eat. The question was, did he give Angel pig’s blood, or his own?

Sharing blood was a sacred act between Sire and Childer. It could be comforting, claiming, and even erotic. Spike thought Angel needed that bond right now. But did _he_ want it?

Spike heated up his own blood and drank it all down, the sounds of running water from the bathroom the only noise in the apartment. Then, he got another mug out and placed it on the desk. Shifting his features, Spike cut his wrist open with one of his fangs and positioned it over the mug. He let the blood drip down and fill it.

When the sounds of the shower stopped, Spike wandered back into the bedroom and sat down on one side of the bed, leaning against the headboard. He held onto the mug tightly. Would Angel drink it? Spike’s attention drifted to the glass he’d set on the bedside table which contained the dust. Would he have drank Penn’s?

Angel stepped into the bedroom, looking a bit lost. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair was dripping a little bit. Spike patted the side of the bed next to him, one hand still clinging onto the mug. Angel came and sat down, he pressed right up against Spike’s side. Spike tried to convince himself that he minded.

He turned to look at Angel, and reached the mug over to him. “Blood. For you.”

Angel shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit peaches. I can smell the hunger on you.”

Angel admitted defeat with a grimace, and took the mug from Spike. He lent down to it, and sniffed. He paused.

“This is yours, Will.”

Spike faltered. “Do you… do you not want it? I can get pig’s if you want.”

“No! No, I want it. I really want it. But… are you sure?” Angel asked nervously.

“If I wasn’t sure, peaches, I wouldn’t have bled a mug.” Said Spike.

Angel nodded, and took a deep breath before gulping down his youngest Childe’s blood.

Spike raised an eyebrow. Angel must have been real hungry.

When he’d finished, Angel set the mug down on the bedside table. He froze when he spotted the glass there, too. Spike reached out and placed his hand on Angel’s head. It had been so long. So long since his Sire allowed him to touch him like this. He ran his fingers through Angel’s hair, still damp. He smoothed it over and over, the rhythm of his movements a relaxation. It was quiet.

“I don’t have anything left, Will.” Angel’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. It was coated in misery, such a sad sound.

Spike swallowed. “You have me, Sire.”

Angel looked up in shock before shaking his head in disbelief. “I lost you when I left you, William.” He sounded mournful.

“You’ll always have me, Sire.”

Angel choked on what sounded like a sob. “ _How?_ Why don’t you hate me? Why haven’t you killed me? I deserve it. I’m deserving of that. I killed you, I made you into a monster. And then I _left_ you. And I know how that feels. So why don’t you hate me?”

There was quiet.

“I do hate you, Sire.” Spike said. Angel flinched.

“But I also adore you.” Spike finished.

Angel looked dumbfounded. “Why?”

Spike inhaled. “Because you made me. Because you looked after me, fed me. Because you used to read my awful poetry when you found it, and you told me you liked it. You would dance about with me by the windows when Darla and Dru were asleep. You’d spend hours drawing me like I was something beautiful and precious. You’d hold me and whisper things in my ears that-“

Spike cut himself off, as he could feel his eyes welling up. He scrubbed them with the back of his hand. “Because _you_ adored _me_ , Sire.”

They both fell into a heavy silence.

It lasted for several minutes before Angel spoke. “I hated leaving. Despised it with everything I had. Still do.” He said. Spike stayed silent. “When I got my soul… I was repulsed. By myself. I wanted things to go back the way they were. So in China…”

Spike sucked in a breath.

“I tried to be what I was before. Or at least some semblance of that. I tried just killing rapists, thieves, murderers. But Darla wanted me to do more. She tried to make me do something that I could never do, not when I had my soul back.” Angel finished.

“So you just up and left then. No goodbyes, no little ‘Oops! Catch you later, had to run!’ note?” Spike snarked.

Angel dropped his head into his hands. “I thought it would be easier if I didn’t say goodbye. I knew Drusilla would be upset by it. But you.” He sighed. “I guess I just didn’t want you to choose between your nature and your Sire. Looking back I can see how unfair it was to you, not even giving you a choice.” Angel murmured.

Spike laughed. A watery laugh. “Really messed up there Sire, I have to bloody admit.”

Angel chuckled a little bit. “Yeah, I did.” They settled into silence for a few minutes, only being broken by Spike putting his empty mug down on the side.

“Not like my nature will be interrupting our relationship anytime soon anyway, Peaches.” Spike said offhandedly.

Angel looked at him. “What do you mean by that?” He asked.

Spike frowned. Did his Sire not know about the chip the initiative had put in his head? Really? “Went and got myself captured by some soldier kids. Turns out they were working for this whole Area 51 type experiment deal. They put a bloody thing in my head,” he patted the back of his bleached head, “A little chip. Wankers.” Spike shrugged.

Angel stiffened next to him. “They did _what?_ ” He hissed. Spike would have blushed if he could. It was embarrassing. He had let himself be bested by a bunch of amateur humans in camo getups and now couldn’t even kill anyone. He couldn’t even feed. He was reduced to plastic bags of nasty soddin’ pigs blood. He felt himself feeling sorry for Peaches, knowing he’d been stuck to that for a lifetime now.

Angel lifted his hand up to grasp the side of Spike’s face, so that he was staring eye to eye with his Sire. “Childe. What does this ‘ _chip’_ do.” Angel practically growled.

Spike averted his eyes. “I can’t kill anyone. Can’t even hurt ‘em. Can’t even think about hurting them or my whole head feels like its been dipped in holy water and burning.” He sniffed. “I’m not even a real vampire anymore.”

Spike jumped out of his miserable state when Angel snarled, his full game face on, yellow eyes filled with rabid anger. He flinched back when Angel went for him but was shocked when Angel thrust Spike towards him.

Angel had Spike completely encompassed in his arms, and one hand was clasping his Childe’s head. He tried to breathe through it, but rage was blinding him. His Childe wiggled in his arms.

“Uh.. Peaches.. Sire… What are you doing? I thought you would be happy. I can’t kill any of your precious humans.” Spike said, although muffled by being pressed into the crook of his Sire’s neck.

Angel pressed his face into his Childe’s hair. “How _dare_ they. How _dare_ they touch what’s _mine!_ Harm what belongs to _me._ I’ll rip them apart. You’re mine boy, and mine only. And they left you defenceless against everything. They’re dead, Childe, you hear me? _Dead.”_ Angel snarled.

Spike was silent. His Sire really cared about him? He wasn’t just blinded by the grief created by Penn’s death?

Angel pulled Spike back from him. “How have you been feeding, if not from humans?” He asked. His voice was still heavy.

Spike shrugged again. “I have that bagged crap, Sire. Tastes soddin’ horrific.” He answered.

“And how have you been paying for it? You can’t have gotten a job. Has Rupert Giles been keeping you fed? Or have you been working another way for money, God forbid-“

“Angel! Calm down! The Watcher’s been feeding me, yeah. Not much though. Can’t remember a time I was full in the past few weeks. I’m surprised he hasn’t staked me yet to be honest Peaches.” Spike cut into Angel’s tirade.

A dangerous glint flickered in his Sire’s eyes. “He wouldn’t _dare._ ”

Before Spike knew it, his own shirt was being yanked over his head. Okay, he knew he was thinning a little bit due to the almost starvation.. but.. there was no need for a reaction like _this._ Not that he was complaining, mind.

Angel growled. “What the hell is that Watcher playing at? You’re skin and _bones._ God, I’m so sorry Childe. If I had known what was happening, I would have gotten you right away. Right away.” He tucked Spike back in his arms, and pressed his Childe’s head against his neck. “Drink, Spike. I won’t have you starved. You’re all I’ve got left. I’m going to take care of you now.”

Spike was stunned. It was safe to say, this is _not_ how he imagined this little meeting going. He supposed it was ‘vampire stuff’ after all. Now, he might have his Sire back. He might have something actually worth living for. Well, unliving anyway. His train of thought was interrupted as the hand slowly stroking his hair pushed his head lightly towards the neck in front of him.

“I’ll be having words with that damn Watcher about starving my boy. Now feed.” Angel murmured next to his ear, tickling slightly.

Spike didn’t need telling twice. Especially not by his Sire. He sunk his fangs into Angel’s neck, and began pulling slow draws of intoxicating Sire’s blood from the neck. His Sire purred encouragingly.

Spike could definitely get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u liked.  
> i'm going to make angel shout at giles next time  
> i do appreciate kudos and comments, they distract me from the realisation i haven't done any of the 76 google classroom assignments i have got.  
> thank u for reading  
> (also i changed my username- sorry)


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